Holy Water (30 page)

Read Holy Water Online

Authors: James P. Othmer

Tags: #madmaxau, #General Fiction

 

Shug takes a step back. Henry turns to Ratu, the concierge.

 


And your job is to satisfy my requests, not share my itinerary with any stranger handing out Western gifts. Agreed?

 

Ratu steps back and looks at Shug.

Agreed.

 


I appreciate the prince

s hospitality, but as soon as possible I

ll be checking out and moving into the lodgings I was originally booked into.

 

Shug turns to Maya and raises his eyebrows.

USAVille?

 

Maya shrugs.

We

ll look into availabilities as soon as possible.

After Henry turns and begins walking up the stairs toward his room, Maya calls after him,

I was wondering, will you be joining us at the call center this afternoon?

 

He laughs, but can

t bring himself to turn around.

 

~ * ~

 

 

 

 

For Tonight

s Performance,

Playing the Role of the

Disgruntled Caller Is the Man

Playing the Role of Henry Tuhoe

 

 

 

 

He spends the night and the entire next day holed up in the room he demanded to leave. Sleeping, mostly, even though he thinks he has a concussion, but also doing some work and talking to the States. Rachel calls and texts him dozens of times in a period of hours. He doesn

t pick up. Doesn

t respond. But he does read and listen to them all. Some are pure rage:
How dare you? I hope you catch swine flu. You know, Vegas wasn

t the first time I

ve cheated on you.
Others are pure sadness.
I

m afraid. How could you leave me all alone? If I were married to me, I wouldn

t have gotten snipped either.
And others are pure craziness. Which makes him sadder. He calls Rachel

s younger sister and then her mother to ask them to check on her. But her sister tells him to fuck off and her mother says,
Where were you two yuppies when I needed you?

 

The only person who agrees to check in on Rachel, to call and if necessary take a train up to the house, is Meredith.

 

~ * ~

 

Late in the afternoon of the second day, while he is staring out his window at clouds gathering at the top of a distant peak, a note is slipped under his door:

 

I

m sorry to impose upon you like this. But your presence would be most helpful back at the call center. Our protocol liaison has arrived two days early from Kashmir and is
awaiting your instructions. If you will not be in the office tomorrow, please advise.

—Maya

 

~ * ~

 


Hello, Happy Mountain Springs, where purity is our passion, how may I help you?

 


Again!

 


Hello, Happy Mountain Springs, where purity is our passion, how may I help you?

 

When the group finishes, the man standing before them, a dark, thin twenty-five-year-old in Levi

s, red Chuck Taylor Converse sneakers, a Los Angeles Dodgers cap, and a black Sean John sweatshirt, claps his hands together and says,

Wah-TER!
WahTER
! Sell those
rrrr

s
!
Again!

 

Henry stops at the door, reluctant to enter. He

s been gone three days, but it feels as if he

s never been here.

How long have they been doing this?

 


Hours,

a woman tells him and Maya.

Since ten a.m. at least.

 


Have they read through any of the caller scenarios?

 


Oh, no,

the woman answers.

He says they

re not nearly ready for that. He tells us a lot of stories about how he did it in India. How his team sounds more American than Americans.

 

In the front of the room, the man yells,

Again!

 


Anything new on getting an actual working phone system?

 

Maya shakes her head.

I called the minister of communication again this morning, but his voice mail wasn

t picking up.

 

Henry rubs the back of his skull.

I don

t know if I can deal with this right now.

 

Maya turns and considers him.

Deal with what? Your job? Life? I need to know exactly what you can and cannot deal with, because we have work to do here, and in addition to your employer, these people are depending on you.

 

He stares at her. When she is angry, he thinks, she is terrifying, and when she isn

t, she

s beautiful. Right now she is both.

Okay,

he answers.

You

re right. Let

s get to work.

 


Come,

she says, signaling Henry to follow her to a kitchenette
in the back of the center.

In our effort to make you feel more at home, we have purchased a coffee machine. Starbucks.

 

He

s a tea guy but takes a black coffee anyway. He rubs the back of his head again. Pain bursts with pulsing regularity from his brain stem to the sockets of both eyes.

 


What happened to your head?

 


I think the answer to that question, and any additional questions about that night, have to be tabled until I have a few tall glasses
of
ara
.

 


This is what you get for doing business with a man like that.

 


Madden? I wasn

t doing business with him. He asked me if I wanted to go for a ride. I shouldn

t have but did. Is he that bad?

 

Maya sets her jaw and looks at the man in the front of the room. He is telling the others a story about a cousin who drove a taxi in Los Angeles for three months.

 


What do you think of our American expert?

 

It

s hard to understand exactly what he

s saying, but Henry is fairly sure he hears the name Keanu Reeves invoked, to silence.
The Matrix
gets a similarly blank response.

 


I think,

Henry says,

that Happy Mountain Springs is in deep shit.

 


He comes highly recommended.

 


He

s from Kashmir. I thought all of the outsource call centers were supposed to be in Bangalore and Mumbai.

 

Maya shrugs.

Do you really want to move out of the spa?

 

He almost forgot.

Sure. I mean, yes.

 


Okay, good. I can make this happen this afternoon.

 

~ * ~

 

During a break, Mahesh Singh, the cultural liaison, introduces himself to Henry. Henry asks Mahesh if there is anything that he needs. Mahesh removes his Dodgers hat and pushes back his long black bangs.

Actually, it would be very helpful if corporal discipline were permitted.

 


Physical punishment?

 


Only for the most extreme cases. One simple act can work wonders among an entire group.

 

At a loss for words, Henry turns to Maya and then back to Mahesh, who suddenly breaks out into a smile and holds up his hands.

Just joshing, brother, okay?

 

Henry half nods and says,

Okay,

but he

s not sure he believes the part about the joshing.

Anything else?

 


Well, seriously, yes. Since you are an authentic American, I wonder if this once you could help me in a simple role-playing scenario for the sake of the trainees.

 

Henry wonders if it is possible to role-play when one is already fully immersed in a much more demanding long-term version of the game.

 

Mahesh picks up a nonexistent phone receiver.

Hello, Happy Mountain Springs, where purity is our passion, how may I help you?

He is sitting on a metal folding chair on one side of a small desk.

 

On the other side sits Henry.

Yes, I

m—

 

Mahesh interrupts.

Please,

he says.

The receiver.

 

Henry picks up a nonexistent receiver.

Would you like me to dial and make a ringing sound?

 


This will not be necessary.

Mahesh picks his invisible receiver back up.

Hello, Happy Mountain Springs, where purity is our passion, Ryan speaking, how may I help you?

 


Ryan?

 


Yes. We must not reveal our Hindu—I mean, our Galadonian given names. It undermines the aura of
neighborliness
. Ryan speaking, how may I help you?

 


Hello, I

m calling from Aurora, Illinois. I recently had a dozen five-gallon jugs delivered for home use, and to tell you the truth, the water in this first jug tastes sort of, well, funky.

 

The smile on Mahesh

s face vanishes. He pulls the invisible phone away from his face and stares at Henry.

What exactly do you mean by funky?

 

They decide to switch roles. For some reason Mahesh insists that this includes switching seats. When Henry rises, a wave of nausea and dizziness washes down, from head to belly to legs. He braces himself against the desk and manages to move to the other seat.

 


Ring ring . . .

 

Henry answers.

Hello, Happy Mountain Springs, where purity is our,
er
, passion. Henry speaking. How may I help you?

 


Your water tastes like yak piss, dude.

 


Excuse me?

 


What, do you have dog cum in your ears? Your water, it tastes disgusting. Like it was strained through a month-old feminine napkin. My whole family is fucking sick with the typhoid.

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